Addicted to the Pain
by LostGirlLover
Summary: Set after Somalia. It's very very angsty, and could be a trigger. Mentions cutting, and in later chapters, maybe suicide. So, if you're not a fan of that, don't read it. It's probably OOC. Tiva set up for later chapters. Rated T for the mentions of cutting, depression, and maybe later, suicide. Read and leave a review!
1. Chapter 1: Addicted

Note: This is set sometime after Somalia. Not sure exactly when, though. You decide. Umm... I'm not exactly a new writer anymore, but I'm still not a great writer. So, leave a review telling me what you think. Be nice, though, please.

Disclaimer: I do not, in any way shape or form, own NCIS.

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Pain. The one thing Ziva David remained in control of. Even with everything else spiraling, she still retained that.

Digging the blade into the left side of her hip, a sigh passes through her lips as blood trails down her skin. The feelings she'd been struggling with, the ones threatening to overwhelm her, faded slightly.

Emotions were her downfall. Before DC, before NCIS, she'd been able to lock them up and shove them into the deepest, darkest corner of her soul. That's why she had joined Mossad. She needed control. She wanted to forget. Forget about how she had felt after her mother and Tali's death. So she willingly became a killer. An assasin, a weapon. But working with NCIS changed that. Changed her. So did Somalia. And now Ziva had to find another way to survive.

Ziva knew what she was doing was wrong, it was weak. But when the knife made the cuts, when the wounds burned, when they bled... Her worries seemed to bleed away with them. And Ziva didn't want the numbness to go away. At this point, Ziva no longer cared. She had stopped caring a long time ago.

Several fairly deep cuts decorate the left side of her hip, others on her stomach. Some are etched on her wrists and lower arms. The bleeding has already slowed, and Ziva carefully bandages each wound, before cleaning the blade and the blood on the floor.

The next day, Ziva gets up extra early. When the water during her shower hits the cuts, they sting. Instead of a comforting numbness, she is filled with shame. Hurriedly dressing up, she decides to punish her weakness by running to work.

Racing down the street, the wounds on her stomach burn with each breath, the ones on her hip with each stride. By the time she gets to the Navy Yard, she's pretty sure she's opened the cuts further. Stepping into the elevator, the doors begin to close until a hand stops them. Tony. What was he doing at work so early?

"Tony. I did not expect to see you here at this hour."

He grins, but it fades after he looks her up and down. "You okay?"

"Of course I am, why would you think the opposite?" She tries not to show her panic.

"You're looking a little pale there..."

"Tony, I just ran to work. Of course I would be a little winded."

"Ziva..." His eyes widen, "Is that blood?"

Glancing down at her white blouse, a deep red stain is obvious. Damn, it must have bled through the bandages. "Oh, that is nothing-"

He grabs the edge of her shirt and pulls it up, eyes widening when he sees the bandages applied on her torso. "Ziva... What happened?"

"Nothing! I tripped, I fell, and I was holding a glass! It broke, I got cut, it is nothing!" She rushes to say, stepping away from Tony and adjusting her shirt.

"I don't believe you. You're my little ninja, and ninjas don't trip. What really happened?" He moves closer, a worried look in his eyes.

"Tony..." What would he do if he found out? He would hate her, despise her. He would think she was a freak! "Please... Please, just believe me. I can offer no other explanation."

"Ziva-"

"Please."

He nods, and the elevator doors slide open. Ziva hurries to her desk, grabbing the extra shirt she always had, and races to the bathroom.

After applying new bandages to her stomach, she puts on the other shirt, a purple blouse. When she gets back to her desk, Tony is at his desk, and now so is Gibbs. Wary, Ziva sits down and turns on her computer. "Have we a case, Gibbs?"

"Nope, Ziver. Care to tell me why DiNozzo's been acting like he wants to tell me something, but keeps looking at you?"

"Oh, it is nothing."

"DiNozzo's face seems to disagree, David. What is it?" His blue eyes pierce hers.

"I tripped last night, holding a glass. It shattered, and several pieces cut my stomach, wrists and lower arms. I jogged to work this morning, and must have aggravated the wounds, therefore they bled through my shirt and Tony saw." She lies, praying neither one would see through her facade.

Gibbs narrows his eyes almost imperceptibly at her. "That what she tell you, DiNozzo?"

"Yeah, but, Boss, she bled right through her shirt..."

"Zivers, care to show DiNozzo how not serious they are and ease his worries?"

Sighing, she stands, unbuttoning the lower buttons of her shirt, and carefully peels away the cloth covering the wounds. Ziva walks across the bullpen, and Tony stands to examine her abdomen. He kneels, and places his hands on waist to hold her steady as he inspects her stomach. After a sharp intake of breath and a quick glance up at her face, he says, "I think you should get this checked out. Boss?"

"Take her down to Ducky. Let him have a look." Gibbs replies, before turning back to the papers on his desk.


	2. Chapter 2: For Now

Note: As I said before, I am not a great author. But I hope you'll like like this chapter. And to the Guest who reviewed, this one's for you. Reviews _do _encourage me to write... So, enjoy and leave a review! :)

Disclaimer: As much as I LOVE NCIS, I don't own the show.

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Standing beside him yet again, Ziva shifts uncomfortably. Suddenly, Tony halts the elevator. "I don't know what's going on, Ziva, but if you're in danger..."

"Tony, I am fine. That is all you need to know." Trying not to panic at the thought of Ducky seeing the wounds- he was a trained medical expert, surely he would be able to tell...

Knowing he won't be able to get any more out of her, he sighs, but flips the switch and turns the elevator back on. They ride down in silence, Tony sneaking glances at her every couple of seconds.

At the morgue, Ducky is just putting his bag down when they enter. "Ah, Ziva and Anthony. What a nice surprise. Care to tell me what you two need from me?"

"Ziva says she tripped last night and got cut on some broken glass. Can you check them out?" Tony answers.

"That should be relatively simple. Miss David, if you would sit down," he gestures to an empty slab.

When he sees the cuts, a concerned look spreads across his face. "Well, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave, Anthony."

"What?!" He replies, indignant. Ducky ushers him out, slamming on the button to lock the doors, preventing him from reentering the room.

"Ducky!" He calls, pressed up against the glass, pleading.

Raising his voice, Ducky calls back, "I'm sorry, Anthony. Doctor-patient confidentiality."

"But you aren't her doctor!"

A sharp glare from both Ziva and Ducky silences him. Turning back to her, he begins, "Now, my dear, about these cuts. Are they self-inflicted?"

Unable to meet his gaze, she answers, "I think you already know the answer to that."

"You seem to have taken good care of them already, medically speaking. Let me just apply some disinfectant, it won't hurt, and new bandages. Do you have any other wounds?"

Ziva takes off her shirt completely, revealing her arms. She also stands and pulls her pants down to her knees, exposing the cuts on her thighs. Ducky looks shocked, but doesn't comment.

Tears quickly forming, she blinks rapidly, trying to keep her breathing even. "Will- will you tell the rest of the team?"

"No, this is between you and I. I will keep it that way, provided you answer some of my questions." He replies, with a kind gaze.

"Okay."

"Why did you start? Have you thought of suicide?"

"I started after Somalia. I needed control, I needed to forget. As for killing myself, no. But, I do know that, even though I have not planned it, I would not care." Ziva answers, trying to be honest. A tear, wavering on the edge of her eye, falls. Wiping it away, she can feel Tony's gaze on her through the glass.

"I know I can't stop you, but I'm hoping you consider trying to stop. And I know you don't like talking about your feelings, but I think Mr. DiNozzo in particular is very concerned and would always be glad to lend an ear." Ducky says, finishing applying the new bandages.

Hopping off of the table, Ziva fixes her clothes. Then she presses the button to unlock the doors. Brushing past Tony, she slams the elevator button. Coming up beside her, he follows her into the elevator.

The doors shut, and he flips the emergency brake switch. "Care to tell me what that was about?"

"It-"

He interrupts, "Don't say it was nothing. I saw, Ziva. Your arms, your stomach, your thighs... I saw you cry. How did you get those injuries?"

She bites her lip, but a strangled laugh slips through. How had he not connected the dots? "Ziva... Please." The look in his eyes nearly pushes her to tell him.

"I already told you- I fell." Her face is cold. No emotion, the mask of a Mossad agent.

"Fine. Stick to that story," he retorts, his tone sharp, biting and brusque.

A flicker of hurt shines in her eyes, and he immediately regrets his harshness. "I'm sorry... It's just... Can't you see that I'm worried about you? I care, Ziva, I really do."

"I know, Tony. I am simply not yet ready to talk about it," she replies, her tone soft, "Can you accept that, for now?"

"For now." He agrees, his gaze filled with warmth and determination. With that, he flips the elevator switch back on.


End file.
